


Wildly Out of Wing

by prettybirdy979



Series: Lessons in Superhero-ing (and Spanish) [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Daredevil (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Big Brothers, Canon Compliant, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Spoilers, Developing Friendships, Family Fluff, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-07 23:05:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6828880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettybirdy979/pseuds/prettybirdy979
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daredevil's not a team player. He's barely cares that there are other people like him, working on the streets to keep their city safe - it's just not important to him.</p><p>Course that was before Spider-Man dropped into his part of the city and he figured out the kid was <i>actually</i> a kid. He's not a team player but damned if he's letting a kid do this alone - or at all.</p><p>If he could just get Spider-Man to listen...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wildly Out of Wing

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Дети — наше наказанье](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9491063) by [WTF_Avengers_2017](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WTF_Avengers_2017/pseuds/WTF_Avengers_2017)



> A fill for [this](http://daredevilkink.dreamwidth.org/8423.html?thread=16417511#cmt16417511) prompt. 
> 
> Thanks to Zwaluw for looking it over!
> 
> Title is from the song 'I Just Can't Wait to be King' in the Lion King. Yes, that one.

Matt stands panting from the adrenaline racing through his veins, blood dripping off his gloves and onto the man at his feet. The night is as quiet as it gets in Hell's Kitchen, only the slightly distorted breaths of the criminal he subdued mingling with his own to break the stillness of the-

Wait. Matt turns his head slightly, realising there's a third person breathing, their heart steady but fast. Focusing, Matt tries to narrow down where they are, tracking the taste of their sweat and the scent of their - frankly childish - cologne to the roof of the building beside him. No, hang on it's too close for that... are they on the _side_  of the building? There's no fire escape there.

'Who's there?' Matt asks, waiting. Yes, a soft gasp there and the heart is starting to pound. 'I know you're there.'

The person starts to walk forward, but remains sticking to the wall. What the hell - oh wait. Wall climbing. What's the name of that Queens' guy who did that? Matt focuses. Spider-Man. That's it. Why is he so far out her- hold on. Bones barely creaking in a figure much smaller than Matt expected. How old is this guy?

'Okay, please don't hurt me. I totally mean you no harm, take me to your leader kind of no harm.' Matt freezes, the highness of the voice stealing his breath away. No, it's not just his imagination; the cologne is childish because he _is_  a child. If this kid is a day over sixteen, Matt's a saint. And if Matt's sure of anything, it's that he's no saint.

'Jesus,' Matt breathes then swallows the instinctive apology for blasphemy trained into him by the Nuns and never quite trained out of him. 'How old are you kid?'

Spider-Man's heart picks up, a humming bee of noise in the alleyway. 'What... what do you mean? I mean, I know the mask takes a few decades off but man, that's kinda insulting.'

Tilting his head in Spider-Man's direction, Matt tries to convey as much disbelief as he can. 'And if you actually answer the question?'

'Question? What question? There was a question? I totally didn't realise there was a question.' Spider-Man moves to sit on the edge of the roof, still too far from a fire escape for Matt to be able to get up there before he was out of sight. Course that means nothing to Matt but best to let the kid have his illusions for a bit. 'Oh! Who's there. You asked who's there! Well I'm there, your friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man.' He shuffles a bit. 'Just me. Spider- _Man_.'

That wasn't even subtle. Fifteen. Definitely fifteen and extremely awkward. Where the hell are his parents? ...and Matt did you _seriously_  just think that? Disgust runs through Matt at his assumptions along with a cold shot of pity and the vague impression he might sound like one of those grumpy men on Fox News, grumbling about 'kids these days'. 'Not my friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man. You work in Queens. Isn't this a bit out of your range?' Matt takes a step towards the wall Spider-Man is dangling off.

While he shifts a bit more, he doesn't run so Matt takes another step. 'What are you doing in my city?' Matt asks.

'Bit of this, bit of that.' Spider-Man nods at the man on the ground. 'You kinda killed my latest lead on the whole, importing guns into Queens.'

Matt freezes, something cold running through him. 'I don't kill,' he says and he can't keep the chill in his veins out of his voice. 'I never have.'

'Whoa, sorry ah Mr Daredevil sir.' Did the kid just _salute_  him? 'Stepped on a sore point there, so sorry, didn't mean to offend. Ah, if he's not dead why's he so still?'

A quick moment of focus lets Matt pick up the soft pounding of the man's heart and his distorted breathing. 'Knocked out. He's whining a bit, if you wanna come down and check he's still breathing.'

'I can come down?'

God the kid sounds excited. 'Free city, I'm not going to stop you.'

A second or two passes before the kid reaches out a hand and releases some kind of string from his wrist - not natural, Matt can smell the synthetic materials from here - using it to guide down to the ground. He lands lightly, far lighter than Matt would expect of a person his size and bounces over to the criminal on the ground. He keeps his front to Matt while moving and a distant part of Matt approves, over the rest of him roaring that this is a _child_.

Placing a hand on the man's throat, Spider-Man breathes out. 'He's breathing.'

'I did say,' Matt says mildly. 'Do I get an answer to the other question I asked?'

'Huh? Oh.' A long pause as Spider-Man rises to his feet. 'Nineteen. I'm nineteen.'

Behind his mask, Matt rolls his eyes. Even without his abilities, he'd picked up on the wavering note in this kid's voice and the slight crack of his voice. He's lying. 'And if you say that _without_  lying?'

'Eighteen?'

'You're questioning your age,' Matt says and he can't keep the note of amusement out of his voice. Spider-Man takes a step back, towards the building. 'You're sixteen, at the absolute oldest and even that seems unlikely to me.' Spider-Man gasps and takes a few rapid steps back, putting his back to the wall. Matt takes a few steps back himself, giving the kid the distance he needs. 'Kid, you're too young for this. Go home.' Turning his back, Matt goes to walk off.

'Wait. You're sending me home? Like a naughty kid in a timeout corner.'

With a sigh, Matt turns back around. 'You _are_  a naughty kid, kid. Leave this job to people with the ability to handle it-'

'I can handle it! Tony Stark came to _me_ for help! He's helping me out, making it so I can choose to do this!' Spider-Man starts to climb up the wall, as if height will give his words more power.

Two can play at that. Matt grabs the nearby fire escape and scrambles to the roof in record time, though Spider-Man beats him there. 'Oh well if _Tony Stark_  says it's fine, it's perfectly okay. Because he's well known for making rational choices and well thought out decisions.'  Matt sighs. 'Come on, this job is not something I'd wish on anyone and you don't have to do it kid-'

'Don't call me 'kid'!'

'But you are!' Matt snaps and Spider-Man takes a step back. Checking himself and forcing the devil in him back, Matt takes his own steps back. 'Legally and mentally, you're a _child_. Have you actually thought this through? Figured out what will happen if you're caught? If you're hurt? Killed?' Oh the irony in what Matt's saying. 'Have you seriously figured out the consequences of your actions?' The silence is sullen but Spider-Man neither confirms nor denies what Matt is saying. 'Look ki- Spider-Man. Go home tonight. Give it some thought and then _stay_  home. It's not safe.'

Spider-Man jerks then runs off, swinging away. Matt catches the muttered 'But I have to do this,' before he's gone.

Well shit. Matt's going to have to show his face in _Queens_  tomorrow, isn't he?

********

'Okay, seriously this is not cool. It's one thing to send me home from your part of the city; no harm, no foul, I know it's yours now I'll steer clear. But dude, coming to my part of town? Not cool.'

Matt just sighs, raising an eyebrow he knows Spider-Man can't see but needing to do it anyway. 'I told you to go home,' he says simply, not bothering to raise his head to look at Spider-Man who is clinging to the building above where Matt is leaning. They're pretty high up, Matt standing on a roof with some sort of even higher roof above him.

'Yeah, last night? This, this is not last night. Come on dude, why are you here?'

Matt moves forward, so it looks like he's looking at the city. 'Can't I be admiring the view?'

'Ha. Ha. Ha. The Devil of Hell's Kitchen is admiring the view. Isn't there enough of a view in your part of town?' A light thump as Spider-Man hops down behind him, shifting in place. 'Why are you here?'

'Because you're fifteen-,' a panicked beat of Spider-Man's heart indicates Matt's guess is right, '-and I can't in good conscience leave you to be a vigilante alone.’

‘Hey! I’m a superhero not a vigilante.’ The pounding of his heart, gritting of his teeth, register in Matt’s mind. This must be a sore point for him, as sore as Matt is about being accused of killing. Hasn’t that joke of a paper been after him as a vigilante? ‘There’s a difference.’

Matt offers him a small smile. ‘Superhero. My mistake. Still, think you need to be legal to sign the Accords to be that, unless your parent or guardian signed for you.’ The way Spider-Man shifts gives more away than his heart ever could. ‘Thought so.’

‘So what? You’re just going to follow me, try and nag me into stopping, into going home?’

‘If I have to,’ Matt says with a small shrug.

‘Well then. Good luck keeping up!’ And with that, Spider-Man shoots a piece of that string - webbing papers tell Matt - and jumps off the roof, swinging away with a delighted noise that has Matt rolling his eyes slightly. Kids.

Course now he has to get down from here. Damn it.

********

‘How the hell did you find me?’ Spider-Man demands as Matt punches out the last of the muggers he’d swooped in to fight, pushing Spider-Man to the side. ‘Seriously, how did you find me?’

‘Followed the sound of teenaged angst and attempts at justice,’ Matt snarks, dragging one man towards the light pole nearby. He hears Spider-Man sigh then grab the arm of another man, dragging him to sit beside Matt’s with no hesitation or groaning. It’s as if the man weighs nothing at all.

Matt’s attention must be obvious because Spider-Man pauses and shifts in place. ‘Ah, portional strength of a spider. It ah, comes in handy sometimes.’

‘I’ll bet.’ Matt nudges the two men closer and nods at them, smiling when Spider-Man takes the cue and strings them up with his webbing. ‘Still doesn’t mean you have to use it.’

‘Oh come on, seriously?’ Matt holds up his hands and shrugs. ‘What do I have to do to get you off my back?’ There’s a long pause as Matt lets Spider-Man consider what he just said. ‘Okay, what other than quitting do I have to do to get you off my back? Don’t you have like, your own city to save?’

The question stings, mostly because of the truth in it but Matt’s careful to keep it out of his voice. ‘Hell’s Kitchen will get along without me, until I’ve finished here.’

‘And if you never finish here?’

Another blow, this time sharper and more pointed. Because Matt can’t keep coming to Queens; can’t keep trying to talk a stubborn teenager out of doing what he clearly wants to do, has the ability to do. Matt remembers being this age and remembers the strength of his convictions then. Back then, he’d been determined to find Roscoe Sweeney and bring him to justice, in whatever form he could. Looking back, Matt knows he was an idiot kid trying to punch above his weight but he’s quite sure no one would have been able to convince him of it then.

He sighs. ‘One way or another kid, I’ll finish here soon.’

‘Told you not to call me kid,’ Spider-Man grumbles.

Before Matt can reply, a sharp, high pitched, loud and completely unexpected noise breaks through the night. It takes a moment for his mind to clear, to focus past the noise and realise some asshole’s set off an alarm. One of those buzzing ones, urgh. Quite close actually, enough to make Matt shift and his heart pound. A quick check determines, yes there’s no crime there just someone making as much noise because _‘Spider-Man’s out there, oh shit, come on pigs, get here fast.’_

Definitely time to go. ‘Come on kid, let’s mo...’ turning to Spiderman, Matt trails off. Kid’s hands are over his ears and he’s sweating and gritting his teeth like Matt’s too well trained to do. ‘Shit,’ he whispers and cocks his head, listening for sirens. They’re coming, no time to delay. ‘Come on kid, Spider-Man, focus on my voice, my breathing. On me. I know it hurts, but focus on me. Tune the world out, it’s unimportant. Just me.’ For a moment Spider-Man’s hands don’t move but then his breathing begins to steady.

These alarms are aimed at kids right? Because better hearing. But this is an extreme reaction, even for a teenager… Enhanced senses. Oh God above, enhanced senses on top of teenaged hearing. It’s a miracle the kid’s not cowering. ‘Better?’ Matt asks.

‘A little?’

‘Good. Time to go.’ Matt grabs Spider-Man’s hand and drags him towards a nearby alleyway, a jolt of pleasure running through him when Spider-Man lets him do it.

‘How… how’d you know?’ Spider-Man asks in a small voice, as they make their way across the roofs of Queens - Matt doing a lot more jumping on a hope and a prayer than he usually does, without an encyclopedic knowledge of rooftops to get by on.

Matt pauses halfway across a roof, causing Spider-Man to do the same on the edge of the roof. On one hand, the secret of his identity is his best protection for himself and everyone who knows him  and his senses are a key point in unraveling that. But on the other hand, Spider-Man’s told him bits and pieces that might make a full picture… and well, Matt knows keenly the feeling that you are alone, that invisible wall that separates you from the ‘normals’ through which every interaction you have is filtered even if they don’t know it. He’d have given anything as a teenager, to have someone on his side of the wall.

‘I was younger than you,’ he says eventually, ‘when I got mine. And I think I’ve had better training,’ Spider-Man bounces from leg to leg, the only sign he might have gotten Matt’s pointed barb about his _lack_  of training, ‘but I do know what it’s like.’

‘You… you too?’ Spider-Man says, almost breathless. ‘But… you don’t seem that strong… Did… did I miss something?’

Matt shakes his head and runs for the next roof, making the jump easily. ‘You’re misunderstanding,’ he grumbles not bothering to raise his voice to be heard. ‘Just the senses.’

Spider-Man follows him easily, not even bothering with his web swings. ‘Oh. But… you have the thing too? Where everything is overwhelming and too much?’ Matt nods. ‘Is… is that why the eyes of your mask? To block out things, when it’s too much?’ Unable to answer truthfully Matt gives a vague shrug and hears Spider-Man nod. ‘Mr Stark made this suit for me,’ he says, ‘and he made these because of that.’ He taps at his eyes and the source of the mechanical whirring noise Matt hears sometimes dawns on him. ‘It… it helps but only with eyesight.’

‘I can help with the rest,’ Matt says carefully. ‘If that’s something you want?’

‘Going to, what was it, ‘aid and abet a menace’?’ Spider-Man says, gleefully quoting the Daily Bugle's recent article on Daredevil’s sudden appearances in Queens. Matt scowls at the words, getting a laugh from Spider-Man. ‘Won’t helping me with this kinda undermine your whole ‘nag Spider-Man into giving up superheroing’ thing you got going on? Like, seriously undermine it.’

‘I’m not helping you superhero,’ Matt grits out. ‘I’m helping you live. Can’t imagine it’s always fun at school, with everything being too much sometimes.’ Matt’s memories of high school are muted by the distance of time and his stubborn desire to forget as much as possible but a few survive. And most vivid of them are the memories of the times the clanging of lockers, dinging of bells combined with the hormones, sweat and inexplicable disgusting odor of teenagers in an enclosed space to be overwhelming. He spent more than a few lunches mediating in bathrooms and one every blue moon allowed himself the luxury of faking a sick day, when too much had become a daily instead of monthly occurrence.

Yes, he knows exactly how much fun high school can be, even with his senses mostly under control. He can’t imagine trying that with none of his training or control… he would have gone mad.

‘...Okay,’ Spider-Man whispers, before surging ahead of Matt. ‘Your place or mine?’ he asks with more confidence.

‘Find me in mine tomorrow night. Think of it as your first test.’

********

‘Focus. What do you hear?’ Three weeks into the weekly lessons - held on various rooftops or deserted buildings in Hell’s Kitchen - and Matt’s sure of three things. One, Spider-Man’s senses are far above the average person but nowhere near as acute as Matt’s. Two, Spider-Man is definitely smarter than Matt, if lacking the experience to apply that intelligence. And three, if Matt was anything like this as a kid, Stick had the patience of a saint to not murder him mid-fight.

‘Do I have to wear the blindfold? I’m pretty sure it makes me look ridiculous. I mean, a mask  _ and _  a blindfold. Isn’t that a fashion don’t? Pick one or the other, but not both. Masks and blindfolds don’t mix.’

‘Are you volunteering to take the mask off?’ Matt says mildly and smirks at the way Spider-Man tenses and his heartbeat picks up. ‘Thought not. You rely on sight too much, it’s stopping you learning how to use your other senses to their full extent. So we’re doing this without it.’

Spider-Man’s heartrate drops back down to resting. ‘Huh. Kinda makes sense when you put it like that. Sight is the dominant sense… did you have to do this when you trained?’

Something cold runs through Matt. He doesn’t want to lie… ‘I trained without my sight, yes.’

‘How old were you? You said you were younger than me…’

‘Ten. I was ten when I started training, eleven or so when my teacher left me to my own devices.’ Spider-Man rockets to his feet, so fast Matt only realises he’s moved when he’s already standing. Shifting into a defensive position Matt asks, ‘What?’

‘You were  _ ten _  and you’re on my case? Do you even have a right to complain?’ Spider-Man is angry, his heart pounding and fists clenched but there’s a note in his voice. Hurt maybe?

Matt considers what he said. ‘I started training when I was ten. I started being Daredevil when I was in my late twenties. There’s a bit of a difference there kid.’

Spider Man’s fists unclench and his shoulders sag, the rest of the tension draining from his body ‘Wait. How old are you? Like, right now, how old are you? Because you said you started being Daredevil late twenties and well, Daredevil’s only been a thing a little longer than Spider-Man’s been a thing. You were new when I got my powers kind of little longer than thing.’

Like Matt said, kid is too smart for his own good. ‘I’ll be thirty in a few months,’ he says, his voice making each word sound like it’s being dragged out of him.

‘So not much older than me!’ Spider-Man says, glee in his voice and the bounce he does.

Matt snorts. ‘I’m twice your age, how is that ‘not much older’ than you?’ The bounces slow a bit but don’t stop. ‘Come on, give me your reasoning here.’

‘Well it’s not! Only a few years more than ten years…’

‘Math is not your subject kid,’ Matt says, turning his head towards where he can smell paper, ink and fabric - the backpack Spider-Man brought with him. ‘Speaking of which, should I be asking after your homework?’ He makes an outraged noise that has Matt smirking. ‘Well that’s a yes.’

‘Oh come on, no. I get enough of this from my Au- my Mom. Please don’t start.’ Aunt, not mother, though it was a good try at the redirect. ‘It’s only Spanish anyway,’ Spider-Man adds, with disgust.

‘Puedo ayudar con Español,’ Matt says in his well practiced Spanish, his smirk growing at the way Spider-Man’s head jerks up. ‘I can help,’ he repeats in English. ‘But first, we do this.’

********

Somehow helping with Spanish homework is added to the list of things they practice weekly even if Spider-Man’s mispronunciations sometimes make Matt want to punch something. They’ve moved to Matt’s roof as a meeting place, though Spider-Man doesn’t know it, if only for the convenience of a regular spot.

So even though it’s not their meeting night, Matt knows exactly where to find Spider-Man the night after the Bugle publishes a downright cruel article on Spider-Man. They compared him unfavourably to the horned menace that helped destroy Hell’s Kitchen - at least, so long as Spider-Man remains masked and seemingly unrestricted by the Accords. Matt’s certain Tony Stark’s protection is in play there, combining with the same issue they have getting Daredevil to sign the Accords - the secret of their identities. You’d have to catch either one of them first and unmask him before you’d even know who needs to sign it. No one’s even gotten close and right now they’re not big enough fish to be worth bothering about.

Doesn’t stop the Bugle calling for it periodically though.

‘Thought I’d find you here,’ Matt says, sitting down beside Spider-Man on the edge of the roof. He doesn’t ask if Spider-Man is okay, because it’s clear he’s not, even without the taste of tears in the air. So Matt just sits there, waiting, ready to listen when Spider-Man’s ready to talk.

‘They called you the Devil,’ he says eventually in a voice trying for toneless but tripping up because of the roughness left by his tears, ‘the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen.’ Matt nods. ‘You were  _ hated _  for crimes you might have actually committed,’ Matt nods again, his face twisting with the surge of annoyance at the memory, ‘but they changed their minds overnight. Just like that…’

‘Because I gave them someone else to hate,’ Matt says quietly, ‘and it was clear I was innocent.’

Spider-Man shifts away from his side, leaving it cold. ‘And I’m not?’ he says, his voice as cold as Matt’s side.

‘You are. But… but you can’t compare us. I was an unknown before the Devil, just a man in black. And after the Devil, I became Daredevil. There’s enough distance that people can pretend. They fool themselves into thinking that the hate they felt was for the Devil and Daredevil isn’t him.’ Matt sighs and runs his hands over his jaw. ‘I was lucky that no one important in the media took offence to me and now, I even have supporters there.’ He tilts his head, so Spider-Man will think Matt’s sneaking a look at him. ‘It’s luck that makes the difference here, nothing else.’

‘That’s… that’s it? I can fix this by being lucky?’

Matt drops his hands into his lap, resisting the childish urge to swing his legs, even if it might expel the nerves jittering under his skin. ‘Nope. You don’t fix this,’ he says and ignores Spider-Man’s full body flinch, ‘you just live your life and prove him wrong. Eventually the evidence of your good intentions will either be so overwhelming that asshole’ll change his mind or he’ll become a meaningless single voice drowned out in a chorus of praise and opposed by that overwhelming evidence.’

‘So… I keep being Spider-Man?’ Spider-Man says, a touch of warmth and amusement creeping into his voice. ‘Is that what you’re saying?’

A deep breath, then Matt risks a swipe at Spider-Man’s shoulder. ‘You know where I stand on that,’ he says when Spider-Man lets the blow land. ‘A two year break wouldn’t hurt anyone, and you might learn how to throw a decent punch. But… well, if you’re keeping it up, I know you’ve already proven yourself a thousand times. Jameson’s just being slow about realising it.’

That gets a huffed, if teary, laugh from Spider-Man. ‘Yeah.’ He shuffles over, so his side is again pressed against Matt’s. ‘You know, you keep complaining about me not being able to throw a punch but Mr Daredevil, I don’t see you offering to fix that.’

Well, it can’t hurt. ‘You get an A on your Spanish quiz on Friday kid, and I’ll teach you how to throw a punch.’ Was this how Dad felt, when Matt begged to learn fighting instead of doing boring homework? ‘And… Spider-Man?’

‘Yeah?’

‘I’m Matt.’

‘...Peter.’

**Author's Note:**

> Puedo ayudar con Español= I can help with Spanish
> 
> Thanks to [Talavin](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Talavin/pseuds/Talavin) for the Spanish.


End file.
